


Inspiration

by PepperF



Series: Islands In The Stream [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV), Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, Episode: s02e14 Touchstone, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode tag for Touchstone (Stargate), would you believe. Sam Carter and Mac have run into one another whilst trying to deal with some of the consequences of the weather device.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> From Surreallis's Macgyver/Stargate, Mac/Sam prompt, rain. Unbeta'd - I had to rush to get this done on time.

It hadn't rained in the Sonoran Desert for more than a year. Now, you might think it wouldn't matter, in a desert; but you'd be wrong. Rainfall, if you look at it long-term, is as necessary in a desert as it is in a rainforest. One reason I've never been very good at keeping plants is that they like their routine. If a guy unexpectedly has to miss a few days, they get sad. Miss a few more – if the plane you're on makes an emergency landing in Venezuela, say, or you're kidnapped by ex-Soviet spies in Khartoum - you come home to a row of desiccated corpses. It's kinda depressing. My old pal Jack Dalton once bought me a cactus. In fact, he left it in my bed for me to find. He's real funny – or so he'd claim. Other people might beg to differ.

Anyhow, I'm getting off the subject. People 'round there had practiced non-irrigation farming for thousands of years, and that's all very well in the long-term, but what do you when you get a drought? I was out there to take a look at other measures – irrigation, that sort of thing. Doctor Carter was there because... well, I don't really know. She never did exactly tell me.

It drove me a bit nuts, I guess. I don't hate mysteries – I love 'em. Can't leave 'em alone. She wasn't talking, though – she'd just give me that smile, and stay silent. She told me when I first met up with her that we were on the same side – which would normally set my alarm bells ringing straight off, but somehow... I trusted Sam Carter. There's just something about her.

Whoever she was, she had some rich connections. Tent set up just above a dried-out wash, with all the mod cons – including some specialized equipment that she tended to shove under her papers whenever I tried to sneak too obvious a look at it. Eventually she told me that this one thing she had was some kind of miracle weather device. I admit now that I did wonder if she'd been out in the sun too long. But the longer I worked with her, the more I was convinced that she really meant what she said. She needed help figuring it out, she told me. I guess I'd convinced her by then that she could trust me, too. And then... well...

\---

The air was unbearably hot and dry. But Sam wasn't minding so much at the moment.

"Mac..."

It helped that the sun was descending and nightfall was just around the corner. It also helped that her shirt was lying over by the table, and her pants and bra were in a tangle in the middle of the tent.

His hands were hot and dry, moisture leeched from them from two weeks amongst the sands. His lips were hot on her neck. "Where's the device from?" he mumbled into her collarbone.

"Mac, just – oh – just leave it," she said again. "I can't tell you that. Just concentrate on-"

Mac's face lifted swiftly. "On-?" he queried, and his dark eyes lit with a mischievous smile.

"On how the device works," Sam said, ruthlessly. And then belied that by pulling him down for a deep, thorough kiss.

Together, they stumbled backwards towards the bed, narrowly avoiding landing on the mosquito net and pulling the whole structure down on top of them. Sam shuffled backwards onto the camp bed, a part of her mind concentrating on the fact that it was rather inclined to collapse suddenly if uneven pressure was applied. The rest of her mind was taken up with the bare, tanned skin of his chest, strong shoulders, long-fingered hands as they fumbled at the buttons of his jeans...

Ah, screw it – let the bed collapse.

She leaned forwards and grabbed at his belt, shoving his hands aside and tugging the buttons deftly apart. Mac found a better use for his hands. Propping himself half over her, he ran one hand swiftly from her bare knee up to the bend of her hip, paused to kick off his jeans and underwear, and hooked a finger in her panties. Then he looked up, and held her eyes as he slowly, slowly dragged them down. Sam found she was breathing hard, her heart thumping. He threw them behind him, and for a moment they stopped, lingering, enjoying the moment – and then they were wrapped in one another's arms, kissing hard, falling back.

Sam ran her hands down to the small of his back, and over the curve of his ass, encouraging him forwards. Mac groaned, and for a moment he panted into her neck, pressing forwards, hot and hard and oh so welcome – "Waitwaitwait," he breathed. "Shit. I haven't-"

Sam stretched one arm back to snag her toiletries bag, and Mac eased back so she could bring it up to the bed and riffle through it. "So much for being prepared for anything," she teased, as she handed him a foil packet.

"They're in my tent!" he protested, and Sam grinned, leaning up on one elbow to watch him unroll the condom on to himself. Thus protected, he stretched out beside her, and ran one hand appreciatively down from her neck, over the swell of one breast, pausing to run his thumb across the point of her nipple. "Why would the Air Force have any interest in a drought in a desert?" he asked, and ran his hand down her stomach, burying his fingers in the hair at the juncture of her thighs. Sam lifted one leg to rest the flat of her foot on the bed, giving him better access.

"Is this your interrogation technique?" she asked, arching her neck. "Because, by all means, carry on."

He twirled one finger lazily through her hair, and then slipped it lower, finding her clit. "I just like to know the whole story," he said, and slid his finger lower, rubbing the length of it slowly in, and then out. Sam groaned.

"Macmacmac..." she breathed nonsensically, and gripped his arm tightly. His finger rubbed relentlessly. "We're on the same side, I swear. I'm just tr...ohhhh. Trying to fix something," she said, unsteadily. Then she pushed him back, paused as the bed swayed alarmingly, and moved to straddle him. His eyes were dark, gaze fixed on her face as she ran her hands down his chest, to grip his erection firmly. "Trust me," she said, centering herself on him, and sinking down slowly. Sam closed her eyes, and heard his moan. When she looked again, his eyes were closed.

"Okay," he said, hands on her hips to help steady her as she shifted, getting comfortable. "Guess I could – ah! - do that."

Sam rewarded this compliance by setting up a steady rocking movement. The tremble in his fingers as they ran over her sides and breasts, and the warm urgency in her stomach, told her that neither of them was going to last long. "Oh, god," she said. "Mac."

One of his hands stayed on her breast, the other moved to her ass, helping her to press closer, harder, faster... "Sam," he groaned, and the hand on her breast slid down and rubbed against her clit instead. Sam gasped, threw her head back, and ground down hard against him, shaking as she came. Mac's hand pressed ruthlessly hard against her ass, and he followed swiftly, arching up beneath her involuntarily, and then collapsing, panting. They stayed there for a timeless moment, until -

"OH!" said Sam. Mac's eyes opened in alarm.

"What?"

Sam, in reply, got quickly off him, ran to the table and pressed a few buttons on the device. A gust of cool wind blew through the tent door, and she scurried back to bed. "Just figured it out," she said, and kissed his forehead.

They woke in the morning to rain drumming on the roof of the tent, and yellow flowers blooming everywhere.

\---

END.


End file.
